The manager looked at the dramatist. The dramatist looked at Mr. Fortune. “What is it you suspect, then?” he said. “What does take a lady out alone after dinner?” said Reggie. “I wonder.” “We don’t know that she went out of the garden, sir,” Bell admonished him. Reggie lit a cigar. “Think there was a murderer waiting in the garden?” he said as he puffed. “Think she was feeling suicidal? Well, it’s always possible.” “Good God!” said Eagle. “You’re rather brutal, sir,” Woodcote grew pale. “You don’t like those ideas? Well, what’s yours?” They were silent. “Has it ever occurred to you somebody might have annoyed Miss Sheridan?” Mr. Montgomery Eagle became of a crimson colour. “Yes, think it over,” said Reggie cheerfully. “If there was somebody she wanted to take it out of----” he smiled and blew smoke rings. “I don’t know what you mean,” Woodcote stared at him. “Really? It’s quite simple. Had anything happened lately to make Miss Sheridan annoyed with anybody?” “I’m bound to say, sir,” Eagle broke out, “there was a--a question about her part. She was to play lead in Mr. Woodcote’s new comedy. Well--er--I can’t deny--er--Miss Darcourt’s been with me before. Miss Darcourt--she was--well, I had--er--representations from her the part ought to be hers. I--er--I’m afraid Miss Sheridan did come to hear of this.” “Rose Darcourt couldn’t play it,” said the author fiercely. “She couldn’t touch it.” “No, no. I don’t suggest she could--er--not at all--but it was an unpleasant situation. Miss Sheridan was annoyed----” “Miss Sheridan was annoyed with Miss Darcourt and Miss Darcourt was annoyed with Miss Sheridan. And Miss Sheridan goes out alone at night by the river and in the river we find her bag. That’s the case, then. Well, well.” “Do you mean that Rose Darcourt murdered her?” Woodcote frowned at him. “My dear fellow, you are in such a hurry. I mean that I could bear to know a little more about Miss Darcourt’s emotions. Do you think you could find out if she still wants to play this great part?” “She may want,” said Woodcote bitterly. “She can go on wanting.” “In point of fact,” said Eagle. “I--er--I had a letter this morning. She tells me--er--she wouldn’t consider acting in--er--in Mr. Woodcote’s play. She--er--says I misunderstood her. She never thought of it--er--doesn’t care for Mr. Woodcote’s work.” Mr. Woodcote flushed. “That does worry me,” said he. “And that’s that.” Reggie stood up. Whereon Superintendent Bell with careful official assurances got rid of them. They seemed surprised. “That’s done it, sir,” said Bell. Reggie did not answer. He was cooing to a pigeon on the window-sill. “You’ve got it out of them. We’ll be looking after this Rose Darcourt.” “They don’t like her, do they?” Reggie murmured. “Well, well. They do enjoy their little emotions.” He laughed suddenly. “Let’s tell Lomas.”